


Lost (Bitney)

by Phantisocial



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Bianca Del Rio - Freeform, Courtney Act - Freeform, Death, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Michelle Visage - Freeform, Panic Attack, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 08:51:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7428217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantisocial/pseuds/Phantisocial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>lost<br/>/lɒst/ <br/>adjective</p>
<p>1.<br/>unable to find one's way; not knowing one's whereabouts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost (Bitney)

Lost was part of Courtney's personality. It was intricately webbed into the very foundation of her being, wiring itself deeply within her. Lost was more than a feeling, it was a way of life for her. Lost was the sun rising in the morning, cracks of light visible through the curtain of her bunk on the tour bus - and knowing that once again she'd seen the night through with sleep.

Lost was 4 am, with dry heaving cries because she couldn't cry anymore - she was physically incapable of tears. Lost was six pm on their days off, sat at the bottom of the shower, water running cold as Michelle picked her up and placed her in her bunk, a carefully placed finger wiping at the area where tears should have been falling.

Lost was soft coo's of "Courtney, love? Why don't you eat a little?" And then gentle hands prompting a plate towards her, a warm touch on her knee as she drew her legs up to her chest, the chair she sat on perched precariously. She hadn't always been that way. Courtney was impulsive, quick and witty - ready for everything. Shane was more reserved, quieter, plain. So she channeled Courtney and the name became more than a drag character / Courtney was who she was.

Caught In The Act - of loving someone who fell away before his time.

Caught in the act - of startled eyes as she set her face upon her boyfriend, led in bed with another man. "I HATE YOU," she had screamed, bile rising in her throat as her lover shifted eyes to meet hers and smirked.

Caught in the act of the guilt, the anguish as she picked up the phone and heard, "He's not going to make it through the night." A car crash. He'd been coming to see her, to explain, to apologise, a drunk driver, a crash.

Caught in the act of the self loathing that came with knowing that the only man that had ever truly loved her was dead and it was as good as her fault. Knowing that the last words she had spoken to him before he died were words of anger and hatred. Courtney was lost.

The others, they seemed to realise. They seemed to realise how many memories being back in the town where her boyfriend had last promised he loved her under the soft glow of moonlight from the window, soft thrusts and exchanged promises to live each other eternally. It would explain, why right now Bianca was sat on the floor next to her, an arm around her shoulder - another around her waist as she fought for air. They were half an hour before starting the show and Courtney couldn't breathe, she couldn't get the fucking air to stay in her lungs and she fought against the strain of oxygen; taking too much in. The theater they were performing in had been the first place Courtney had ever met Darren. His eyes alight with passion as he watched her dance her way across the stage, feet pointed, wig perfected - elegant in all her steps.

 

It made sense for her to be in the position she was in now - dry sobbing into her hands, a buzzing in her head as she tried to fight the panic that was building inside of her. Bianca was knelt down next to her, one knee down on the floor - wobbling slightly as she tried to steady herself next to Courtney. A larger hand than her own was placed on her back and she flinched involuntarily. Over the last year, Bianca had grown as a close companion to the younger queen - the closest thing to a confident that Courtney had ever had. It was bittersweet at times. Sweet in that Courtney felt safe whilst in company with Bianca, her older queens mannerisms a welcome comfort. Bitter that Courtney was always being thrusted another person that she would fall into trusting, only for it to be inevitably broken. Courtney felt like a curse-

 

Everything in the last three years had fallen apart, leaving her to deal with the shattered pieces. Courtney was tired. So achingly tired that it hurt to breathe sometimes, it constricted her chest and the only coherent thought she could understand was, lost, lost, lost, lost. "Courtney - Alaska wants to -" Michelle's voice cut out into nothing as she took in the shaking form of Courtney on the floor, a concerned Bianca clutching her hand. Distantly Courtney could hear a murmured, "panic attack." And that was what brought the walls crashing down on her. The fire in her veins was excruciating - burning through her blood stream - mixing with the ice cold that scalding her skin, mixing in the middle in a collaboration of anxiety.

She could briefly feel hands wrapping around her wrists, stopping the nails that she was taking down her arm in order to feel something that wasn't panic. "Courtney please don't hurt yourself, baby," Michelle whispered, as she knelt down next to her. Courtney shuddered further away from the voices which seemed far too loud, unable to understand the jumble of words being spoken to her. She couldn't do it. Couldn't stand on the stage where she first fell in love with the warm brown eyes that stared at her from the front row, captivation mixing with admiration. "Can't breathe," she heard herself mumble, unsure if anyone could help but desperate for someone, anyone to help her.

 

Through the haze in her mind, she could make out the forms of Michelle and Bianca - the shame of the situation crushed down on her and she gasped harder, her breath ricocheting out of her. "Ring for medical assistance, Bianca," Michelle commanded, "even if we can get her calm down, we need to make sure she's okay." A niggling thought attacked Courtney over and over until she managed to stutter out despite the hyperventilation - "Need to get ready for the show," she mumbled, "not ready, need to get ready." Courtney's head swam alarmingly, her eyeballs rolled back slightly as the room swayed around her. "Courtney? Queen, put your head between your legs - it'll help with the dizziness. I know bitch, you'd usually be doing this for some fellatio trick," Bianca joked, her voice light and airy as she took her place next to Courtney again. "I'm getting my fucking dress dirty, queen." The familiarity of Bianca's fake shade made Courtney's breath hitch a little less and her pulse stop racing as fast. "There she is," Michelle smiled as Courtney raised her head from her knees, still breathing fast but not to the extent that she had been. Michelle placed a hand underneath her arm and hoisted her towards the sofa in the dressing room and sat her down gently, pressing a cup of water to her lips. "Just like that time I had to help you drink because you didn't want to smudge your lipstick," Bianca laughed and sat down to the right of her, an arm snaking around her waist.

When Courtney thought back on that day, she still felt the anxiety of being unable to breathe, the desperation of trying to convey to Bianca that she needed help. Without having to say the words, Bianca knew. Knew what she needed, no matter if it was just space for days on end or an offer for support. It took seven months. Seven months for Courtney to feel okay again, seven months of "It was my fault, I as good as killed him," being met with, "Shhh, Courtney," morphing into, "Courtney Baby, it wasn't your fault." Seven months of knocking on Bianca's hotel room door or bunk on the tour bus, to sit there and listen to Bianca talk about anything and everything. It was at the end of Bianca's bed in her hotel room that the realization had hit her. And for once, Courtney wasn't afraid anymore.

Courtney Act was still lost. Transcending into a spiral of constant anxiety so often but now she was grounded. Bianca had noticed it before her, how their eyes would meet a little longer - their meet ups just to talk and laugh more often. Bianca realised she was falling for Courtney before Courtney ever realised she would ever allow herself to love again. That was how they saw themselves now, hinds intertwined, fingers wound together closely as they pressed their foreheads together softly. Out of drag, everything was simpler - it wasn't forced like sometimes on stage. Their lips met only for a split second but it was enough, it was a promise for safety and security - promise for something that Courtney had never let herself experience.

And for the first time since Darren had died, Courtney was crying - tears rolling down her face as she pressed her lips to Bianca's again - lithe hands molded gently into the other queens hair, able to hold as hard as she liked if she had wanted too. Courtney was lost; Lost in love and compassion - a mutual desire for safety in love. Every kiss wasn't a spark, there were no fireworks like in the stories but it was always an exchanging of love. For the first time, Courtney felt loved and felt love. Love for herself that she'd never known before, love for her sisters on the tour and above all else, love for Bianca - the person who had stolen her heart in such a short space of team.

 

Yes, Courtney was lost. But she was lost in all the right ways


End file.
